Oban Sarr
by Fira Astrali
Summary: Oban's first adventure away from home is looming large, and he's exited to meet it. But he may get more than he bargained for. An assassin on his tail, a file full of a family he never knew. Only one thing is known for sure, his destiny waits in Lylat -D-
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Alright, I'll make this brief. If you've read my profile, you'll know that this is a prequel to Sloan's trilogy, so you don't need to read my other books to understand what's going on. (Although those who have read Old Friend's Request might find certain characters familiar) I am trying to buzz through this part to get back to Sloan, so this story and the next one will be as short as possible.

Just cuz' I have to… Any characters/locations/themes that are directly featured in any Nintendo released item are copyright © Nintendo. All other characters/locations/themes are copyright © Fira Astrali

I can't think of anything else, so enjoy!

Regen Sarr had seen a lot of squalor in his years -being a space pirate meant you didn't always see the greatest side of a planet- but this little hunk of rock on the edge of the Lylat system was something different all together. Under a low, greasy sky was an endless maze of rundown shacks, three families crammed into barely one room. Homeless people huddled in dirty blankets outside the doors. It reminded him heavily of Berman, except there were no warehouses or factories to even pretend there might be jobs around. This was where people went to be swallowed and forgotten.

Regen's clean clothes attracted attention, but his easily viewed sidearm dissuaded anyone from approaching. Sad, hopeless eyes watched him walk past without challenge. They had no idea why he had come, but they knew that soon he would leave, a luxury to be envied. He clutched a filled file in his hand, eager to find his target and be gone from the place. He turned down a side street, stepping over the sad, destitute citizens, trying to ignore the smell and their pleas for his help, and headed towards the house that belonged to his employer.

It was far from the main streets, and held only one resident, because no one wanted to go near the 'mad wolf' of Eladard. The hall deposited him in a wide, deserted court, walled in on every side, with a cement floor. It was dark and cold, and Regen's only desire was to rid himself of his task and get away.

The only thing in the court besides a clump of weeds and a forgotten paper was a door that lay on the other side from the street. It was lopsided on its hinges, and was swinging slightly. There was no light flickering from behind it, but he knew that she was inside. He crossed the court and pulled open the rotten wood door. He was greeted by the gloom and filth of a house that was long ago abandoned. Dust lay thickly over everything, and he could see broken and gutted furniture in rooms that had once been for entertaining, telling him the Eladard had not always been gripped by poverty.

"Anyone in here?" he called into the gloom. A scratching noise came in the direction of what once might have been a kitchen. Sitting huddled in between a large broken appliance and the wall was a woman. She was thin and frail looking, with wild eyes that told Regen her time on Eladard had not been kind to her mind. The floral dress she was wearing was dirty and ragged, and the same one she had been wearing when he first saw her weeks ago. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her chest, and her face was almost completely obscured by extremely long, dark grey head fur with a white line in it.

Regen kneeled down in front of her. She didn't seem to notice him, so he threw the file he'd been carrying down on the floor next to her. Her whole body jerked from the quiet noise, and she inched away from it. She was shivering, like she had just been thrown into ice water.

"What did you find?" she asked him, her voice quiet.

"You were right all along. Your husband had nothing to do with those terrorist attacks. He should be a free man."

"Did you find out who was really behind it?"

"No, but I found enough to get your husband out of prison."

Regen was confused by the bitter laugh that was the woman's answer.

"You underestimate the power of the man who put him there. Space pirates might control Boolie, but you are nothing in this system. No, this information is useless." She glanced at the closed file, then looked away again, staring back into space. "You've been good to me, no one here in Lylat would have indulged the ramblings of a crazed old woman like me." Her head turned to scan the room, then fell on a closed door across the hall. "As you can see, I have no money with which to pay you, so I wish to offer you a gift instead."

"A gift? What kind of gift?"

The woman didn't answer, instead pointing to the closed door. Regen got up, and cautiously went to open it. He hesitated, with his hand on the knob, and glanced back at the woman. She was watching him intently, expectantly. He turned back and opened the door.

What he found was a bedroom. It was in similar condition to the rest of the house, minus a small bundle of extremely clean, white sheets. Regen looked though the doorway again. This time, the woman nodded, and Regen assumed it was his prize. He began to gently unwrap it.

It shifted in his hands.

He jumped back, crying out, watching as it continued to shift. A glance backwards offered only another nod. He reached out and tugged away one of the sheets.

A baby's face came into view. It was a tiny wolf pup, male. He watched its nose twitch and sneeze in the presence of so much dust, and it fought to get its tiny paws free of the sheets.

"What is this?"

"I would assume it would be fairly obvious," the woman said.

"Is this your son?"

"Not for much longer, I hope. Look around you, what do you see for him? Cold nights, an empty belly, early death, that's all he has to look forward too. His mother is a lunatic, and his father is serving a life sentence for treason, the only way his life holds any promise is to escape this system. You are a good man, Regen Sarr, I know you will take care of him." The woman stared at him pleadingly, her deep purple eyes visible through her curtain of hair.

Regen looked back at the child, who was beginning to cry from his discomfort. He gently picked the baby up and held him in his arms.

"What's his name?" he asked, bending down to pick up the discarded file folder.

"It doesn't matter," the woman answered. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she watched her son cuddle against Regen. She reached out to touch him one last time, but pulled her hand back. She looked away. "Now go, and never come back here. Forget I even exist."

Regen left Eladard before the sun went down that very day, but the soul-cutting sobs of a childless mother would haunt him for much longer.

Regen had many children, few of which held the characteristics of both parents, and for space pirates, taking in someone else's child was a normal thing. So no one noticed when Regen's brood suddenly grew by one, with no pregnancy on the part of his wife. The file he had compiled was placed in a locked drawer in his desk, along with the rest of his family's important papers. The orphan from Eladard was christened Oban Sarr and, as his birth mother had requested, no one said anything about his strange origins. He grew in their house, and never doubted that he was a Sarr son. It seemed as if his mother's wish would be granted, and he would never see the face of his home system. However, the best laid plans of mice and men have a tendency to come undone…

Inloya had four seasons, just like every other planet. They were: winter, still winter, almost winter, and a bit warmer than winter. Oban didn't remember the last time he had been able to walk around outside without a coat on.

It wasn't that he minded the cold, or the snow, he had a great appreciation for the beauty a light dusting could give everything. There was nothing wrong with the planet's people, indeed they were the friendliest, warmest people Oban had ever met. His only complaint was the lack of change.

Everything always stayed the same on his home planet –or the closest thing to, seeing as he made his home on an orbiting space station- he had spent nearly 18 years on a planet that was always cold and beautiful, with the same type of people around him all the time. He craved for something to change, and what made it so incredibly exciting was that he knew he was about to get his wish. His 18th birthday was coming up, today was is Last Day as a child, and his First Night as a man was coming very quickly.

He was spending his Last Day with his two best friends in the system: Xannon Zindia and Vent Starkiller. The three were a strange mix, each coming from a different walk of life that didn't usually associate with one another. Xannon was from a line of pirates known as the First Navy. They really had nothing to do with the army, it was just the name for the nobility of space pirate families. Xannon came from the highest part of the upper crust, as the beautiful young vulpine was the daughter of Boolie's ruling monarch, Empress Hera Zindia.

Vent came from the complete opposite end of the spectrum. He had come alone from Outlander space hoping to find a better life for himself. Not easily done, when one looked at the massive avian's linebacker-esk build and serrated beak said he was a Deep Space pirate, a title which carried a reputation for being cruel and untrustworthy.

Oban, many said, was what kept the threesome together. His father's business dealt with pirates from Deep Space and The Navy, which meant Oban dealt with the both of them as well. Xannon and Vent had met because of their friendship with Oban, and he had kept them together.

Both Xannon and Vent had already had there First Nights, so the nearing of Oban's meant there plans for escape and adventure were about to come true. Without the consent of their parents, they had planned a trip together across Boolie. Once Oban became an adult, and his parents couldn't say no, there would be nothing in their way.

"I think we should leave right away, after Oban's party," Xannon was commenting as they wandered around town.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Vent cautioned solemnly. Xannon looked surprised, Vent was usually the least level headed and considerate of the three.

"Oh, and why's that? Do you think we should tell Oban's parents where we're going?"

Vent's face cracked, a huge grin spreading across his features.

"Well, I just thought it will be hard on Obie, seeing as he'll have an awful headache."

"What?"

"Come on, Oban, it's your first night a man, I might just have to get you drunk!" he laughed.

"Vent!" Xannon cried, "Just because he's an adult doesn't mean he needs to get weasel faced."

"What did you do on your First Night, Princess?"

Oban put his hands up to stop what was sure to be a fight.

"Guys, wait a second. I can't leave without telling my parents were I'm going. I have to leave them a note or… something," he muttered.

"Oban, you've had more than two years to figure this out, don't you know how you're going to say goodbye?"

"I was thinking about telling my dad at midnight."

"Ooh, right after he could do something about it, I like," Vent commented. Xannon sighed.

"Alright, fine, as long as you don't tell them where we're going."

"Do we even know where we're going?"

Oban let his serious question be drowned in the laughter of his friends. The adventure of his life was just hours away.


	2. Chapter 2

The party started early, shortly before sundown. Vent had showed up at the ceremonial hall just when the sky had started to change colours, a large package under his arm. When Oban asked him what it was in it, he just grinned.

"You'll find out at midnight!" he said, and dropped it on a table set out for gifts. By tradition, this would be the last birthday that Oban would receive preasents, possibly even celebrate. Everyone who came would try to bring a gift that would have something to do with their background, or their relationship with the birthday boy.

Oban picked up the package and turned it over in his hands. It was soft, and wrapped in brown paper, tied with twine that Vent had probably stolen from his job in the shipyards. Vent punched Oban in the arm while he played with it.

"Put it down before you rip the wrapping and spoil the surprise. You'll never know what I went through to get that, pup."

Oban did what he was told, resisting the urge to comment on the quality of wrapping materials. Vent worked hard, but there were no laws against the exploitation of his people outside of Outlander space, and he was very poor. Whatever was inside the paper would have taken all he had, maybe more.

"Thanks, Vent. I have no clue what it is."

"Well, that hurts, pup. You should know me well enough to guess."

"I'll get it if you give me a hint."

"Not a chance," Vent laughed. He walked off to help set up for Oban's First Night, and Oban sat on a chair watching. Another part of the tradition was that he wasn't allowed to help with his own party, but it was hard for him to watch as his friends and family worked. All his friends but one.

"Hey!" he called to Vent, "Where is Xannon?"

Vent shrugged, "Don't know, probably primping. She'll be here, don't worry."

"As long as her father lets her go consort with her lessers," Oban grumbled under his breath. That had been his only fear about the night. Her father was extremely controlling, and hated the fact that she even talked to people outside of the First Navy. Vent had nearly been kicked out of Zindi's First Night for exactly that reason, and Oban had barely managed to get in unchallenged. Oban was afraid that she wouldn't get to come.

The last red and gold decorations went up just as the final rays of sun were slipping below the horizion. The pirate's Ceremonial Hall had been turned from a grand but colourless building with huge amounts of floor space and high vaulted ceilings, to a massive ballroom adorned with the Sarr family colours. It was already full of people mingling and talking, and Oban could smell the food on the buffet tables. Vent's promise to get him smashed came back to his mind. He slipped around the edge of the room, politely accepting the hugs and kisses of the people who had come. Vent appeared at his shoulder, drink in hand.

"Wow," he heard Vent whisper in his ear. "This is a lot nicer than my First Night."

"What did you do?" Oban asked. Vent's face clouded over, a sure sign he didn't want to talk about it. His face brightened considerably when he glanced towards the door.

"Hey look, princess is here!" he called, and went to meet her. Oban followed.

Since it was an important occasion –and her style- Xannon was lavishly dressed in her royal colours of gold and purple. The ball gown that she was wearing draped over her body and flowed on elegantly, like some kind of angel. The gold clasps in her hair had purple adornments and matched the dress. Oban had seen it before during her First Night, it was the outfit she wore to all important proceedings.

"I'm glad you made it," Oban told her.

"Yeah, I figured daddy wasn't going to let you out, princess."

"Please, I wouldn't miss this for the Empire."

"Don't say that too loud," someone murmured from behind her. She smiled at them politely, which was her way of telling them to go die somewhere.

"I'm hungry," she decided, "let's eat."

"There's food at this thing?"

"Of course there is, Vent."

Vent went silent, and followed his friends to the table. It was slow going, as Oban was continually mobbed by people, most had been invited by his family and he didn't recognize. He had to put up with strangers telling him how much he had grown, and how happy they were for him, how much he was going to like his gift from them. A couple told him they were amazed to see he'd made it. Vent liked those people.

Under such a large amount of attention, Oban thought it was natural to feel uneasy, like someone was watching him. Of course someone was watching him, the whole room was watching him. Still, Oban felt like something was off. He glanced around, looking at all the faces and knowing he had no idea what kind of person was behind them.

Then he noticed a man, half hidden behind a pillar. He was watching Oban like everyone else, but the look in his eyes was far from the kindly ones he had been receiving previous. He was dressed all in black, and had it not been for his eyes, which seemed to be glowing yellow, he would have been almost impossible to see. Oban reached up to touch the bandana around his neck. The black piece of cloth, printed with a skull and crossbones, was the mark of a space pirate, no matter where you came from. Everyone at the party had one, except the man behind the pillar. Oban glanced over at Vent, who had somehow been managing to carry on a conversation with a nearby party goer.

"Hey, do you see that guy?" Oban asked.

"What guy?"

"Behind the pillar, right there. Don't you..." his voice trailed off. The man had disappeared. Xannon put a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned by the confused, scared look on Oban's face. It took a few seconds for him to answer, by then he had managed to regain his composure, despite the foreboding feeling the man had given him.

"Um, yes, I'm fine."

Vent leaned over to Xannon, "methinks he's got a head start on the man drinks."

"Methinks you're an idiot," Xannon snapped back.

"Now children, settle down," a deep voice rumbled like thunder from behind the group. Two heavy, well worn lupine hands fell on the shoulders of Vent and Xannon. "You wouldn't want to get into one of your fights and ruin Oban's night, would you?"

"No, sir," the two mumbled like school kids. The man that was holding them smiled and patted their shoulders.

"Very good. I trust you're having a good time, Obie?"

"Yep, thanks dad. Uh, dad?" His called stopped the lupine, who had been satisfied by his son's answer and was walking away.

"Yes?"

"You didn't invite anyone that wasn't a pirate, did you?"

"Of course not, it's against our laws, why?"

"… no reason."

Regen gave his son a strange look, but after a few seconds he just walked away. Oban watched him go, and decided that if it wasn't worrying his father, it shouldn't worry him.

The hours went on quickly. Before he knew it, eleven o'clock had come. He felt himself shiver when he looked at the clock. Only a few more precious minutes, and he would be out of his childhood forever. He paused for a second, watching the hands move around the face of the clock.

"Don't look so worried, Obie, being a grown up isn't so bad," Vent assured him.

"I know, it's just… eighteen years? Gone? It didn't seem so long."

"Yeah, well, the next eighteen years will go by just as quick, so don't waste any of it staring at clocks and sighing," he cautioned. Then he grabbed Oban's hand and half threw him into the arms of a pretty girl he had never seen before, who dragged him onto the dance floor. The music was loud, and Oban liked to dance, so he didn't object.

Twelve chimes of the gigantic clock at the top of the hall silenced all the proceedings. Oban looked at it again, then down to the line of people that had gathered in front of a large gothic style stained glass window. Oban trembled as he approached them. This was the beginning of the end to his ceremony. Slowly, he walked forward, his boots clicking loudly on the hardwood floor. He had never been much for attention, and he felt like throwing up when he realized that every single set of eyes were on him.

He climbed the stairs to the stage, stopping in front of the first person in line, Xannon. These were his Special Gift people. On the stage was everyone in his immediate family; his mother and father, and his seven siblings, in order of age. Before his family was Vent and Xannon. Since they were his best friends, they got the privilege of taking an active part in the ceremony. Xannon threw her arms around Oban again.

"I'm so proud of you, Obie," she whispered. As she pulled away, she slipped a small package into his hand. It was only the size of his palm, and wrapped in delicate gold paper. Oban turned it over in his hands. Xannon silently urged him on, and he ripped open the package.

Inside was a deep red box, tied with a purple ribbon. He pulled the ribbon open and lifted the lid, inside was a mirror. There was nothing particularly special about the mirror. He could see Xannon reflecting in it. He glanced behind him, and jumped a mile when he realized that she had not moved from her place in front of him. He looked down at the mirror. It was still reflecting as if she was standing behind him.

"How?"

"It's an artefact from the farthest regions of Boolie. It reflects the person you are thinking of at that moment. So if we get separated you'll still have us."

"Thank you," he said, slipping it into his breast pocket, next to his heart. She smiled, happy that her gift had been given such a special place.

Vent was next in line. The smile on his face looked a little strange, and Oban was pretty sure he was having doubts about the quality of his gift. He held it out, trying not to make it look too obvious he felt upstaged. Oban took the gift carefully.

"I've already done the feel-and-guess, so I'm just going to open it, okay?"

"It's yours, do what you want."

There was already a tiny rip in the paper, so Oban used that to get into it. It looked like cloth of some kind. Dark, but with a sheen that made it look shades lighter depending on what light it was under. Oban unfurled it slowly, as not to do any damage to whatever it could be. It reached to the floor, and was hemmed with gentle gold. So little he barely noticed it, but somehow it made the colour even more beautiful. He turned it around slowly. Heavy sleeves fell from the folds, and Oban realized that it was an extremely heavy coat. Pockets inside and out left room for anything the wearer could possibly need. It took him a moment to realize just what it was.

"Oh my god," he gasped in amazement, "a chill coat?"

Vent grinned authentically, glad to see Oban's amazed look. "Yep. It's the best one I could find. It'll keep the space chill off you, no matter how much it seeps into the ship you're in. You'll never freeze."

"Vent… Vent you can't give me this. This is… these coats are some of the most expensive items in Boolie." Oban held it up to show Vent exactly what he had given away, how amazing it was compared to the one that Vent wore then. It had been handmade by the wearer before coming to Inloya, was pitch black, and not nearly as ornate as the one he had given away. Still, he held his hand up against it.

"Ah ah, this is the First Night ceremony. To give back a gift during this is unforgivable."

Oban hesitated. This was true, he couldn't give the gift back, and he was sure Vent had chosen this gift for specifically that reason. He ran his hands over the fabric, and slowly, he threw it over his shoulders. It was much lighter than it looked, and it fell on his shoulders like a shadow.

"Thank you, Vent," he murmured, still struck by the magnitude of his friend's gift. Vent punched Oban lightly on the arm, having nothing really to say.

A slight whining noise from next to Vent took Oban's attention. Vent smiled, nodding him forward, towards his family. They were set up from youngest to oldest, that meant Oban's little, five year old sister Junie and her twin brother Quest was standing next to Vent. Oban kneeled down to accept the gift from them. They both had the same gift, a picture drawn of the family, looking like it was done in a kindergarten class room. It probably had been. Junie's had a winter landscape like that of Inloya, while Quest's had a lush green background. Interesting, since he had never actually seen one with his own eyes.

"They're so you'll remember us forever," Junie explained.

"No matter where you go," Quest added.

Oban laughed, and pulled the two into a hug.

"I'll never forget any of you. You're my family, and I love you."

Jordan came next. He was twelve years old, with grey eyes and pale, washed out fur. Oban remembered when Jordan had first come home. He had been a preemie baby, and very sickly. Oban had liked having a younger brother, and had spent a lot of time with him. He'd taught him to read and write, had helped with all his homework. A twinge of guilt went through him when he thought of the trip he was about to go on. He would miss helping him work.

Jordan's gift was a book, written in the mother tongue of the region of Boolie the Sarrs lived in. Upon further inspection, Oban realized that he had just been handed the book he had taught Jordan to read with. Oban ruffled the young boy's hair as thanks. Jordan tried to smile, but he didn't do it often, and it came out as more of a grimace.

The person next to Jordan half grabbed Oban's attention. Oban tried to hide his own grimace at Redd's impatience. The 19 year old, in a way, was more immature than the quiet Jordan. Oban offered Jordan one more smile, then walked on. Redd's gift was something pointless, and Oban slipped the bauble into his pocket with a nod and moved on. Isaac's gift was a little more interesting. The dark coloured wolf had always been a little eclectic. It was a carved wooden necklace with Oban's name in it.

"I carved it myself," Isaac said proudly.

"It's beautiful," Oban assured him, thanking his brother with a hug before slipping the necklace around his neck.

His timberwolf sister was next. Lacy was the oldest girl in the family, and was the sibling he was closest to. She was only four years older than Oban, but had taken care of him since he had come to the Sarr family. She was apprenticing to become a sharpshooter, something that Oban wanted to do someday as well. She smiled gently as he approached.

"Hey little brother," she said in her soft voice.

"Hey sis."

"You know how lucky you are that you made it to this stage alive?"

"I wouldn't have been able to do it without you."

Lacy laughed gently, then reached into her pocket and pulled out her gift. It looked a lot like Xannon's, but not so flashy. Inside was a golden compass pointing east.

"Um, okay I don't get it," Oban said. Lacy smiled a little wider.

"Notice it's pointing east and not north?

"Okay?"

"Do you know what's east of us and many thousand feet up?"

"The station?"

"Exactly. No matter where you are, this compass will point to the place your heart calls home."

"That's amazing," Oban breathed, feeling the magic in it ripple through his fingers.

"A lot of people went to great lengths to give you things you would remember forever, make sure you do."

"Always." He lingered with his sister for a few more seconds, not wanting to move on to his last brother. He would miss her more than anything, but he knew he needed to go. The majority of his family still thought of him as a boy. The trip would make him a man in their eyes, if nothing else.

Oban felt his body temperature drop as soon as he stepped under Mordecai's icy glare. The two locked eyes; this was a challenge that he wouldn't back down from again. Mordecai was the oldest and looked the most like his father out of all the other children, so he figured that made him better than everyone else. He and Oban had a running feud going on as long as either could remember. Mordecai didn't like Oban because he was the only child that hadn't inherited Regen's blue eyes, and thought of him like an outsider. A few brutal seconds passed, then Mordecai reached slowly into his pocket and produced a small black leather book.

"It's a picture album," he explained flatly. Oban politely leafed through it. In the front was a small picture of the whole family, followed by pictures of the parents and each child in order of age.

"Thank you," Oban murmured, and moved on. Mordecai did not stop him, in fact he seemed pleased to see him go.

"Oban!" His mother cried as soon as her turn came, throwing her arms around her 'little boy'. She was crying like she always did at times like this. "Oh I'm so proud of you! I was scared you wouldn't make it to tonight, with all you got into!"

"Why does that seem to be the theme around here? I didn't get into that much garbage," he said sheepishly, knowing that was only half true. She squeezed him even harder, until he could barely breathe.

"Still, you fought through so much. I love you. I wish I could have found you something better than what I did."

"I'm sure whatever it is will be amazing."

"You're so sweet. Well, you know how it's almost a tradition in our house that the new baby get a blanket all their own?"

Oban nodded, he remembered his own. It had been handmade and had carried it with him until he was almost double digits.

"Well, I thought that maybe someday you would travel away from here to make a family…"

"Yes, mum?"

"And what if your wife doesn't know how to make blankets. She'll need time to learn, right? So I figured, I'll make her the first one, so she doesn't have to worry!" She held out the neatly folded blanket for him to take. It was soft, and made of subdued colours. In each corner was a skull and crossbones, and the Sarr family crest on the middle.

"It's perfect. I'm sure the woman that I haven't met yet will appreciate it a lot."

Locké glanced down the line.

"Are you sure you haven't met her yet?"

"Mom!"

"I know, I know, a princess would swaddle her kit in something better than that rag I just gave you."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know sweetie, but you are so good together, and she _is_ the princess…"

"Geez, he's barely a man and already you're trying to marry him off," Regen laughed, unable to keep himself quiet any longer. Locké blushed a little, and pressed the baby blanket to her son's chest. She nodded gently towards Regen, who put his arm around Oban and pulled him in.

"Well, I think I'll spare you the 'I'm glad you're not dead' thing, although I'm just as proud as everyone else. I think it's getting late, so I'll be quick about this. I have been waiting to give you this gift since I first laid eyes on you." He reached down to his belt. Clipped there was a blade. He unclipped it, sheath and all, and handed it to Oban, who pulled it out of the scabbard to inspect it reverently.

It was silver, brightening as it got close to its razor sharp point. Along the glinting blade was an inscription:

_To my beloved child. Never forget whose blood runs in your veins, and whose name you carry. I am proud to pass on my legacy to you._

"What? How? Why? Shouldn't this have gone to Mordecai?"

"Oban, that blade is an heirloom. It was made by my father's grandfather, as a special gift. Not for the first born child, but for the child that _needs it most_. I have not been blind to the shunning by some of your siblings, and I know that you have often felt outside of our family. I want this to cement in your mind that you are our son, and we love you, no matter what."

Oban wanted to thank him, but he couldn't make the words. Instead he just allowed his father to pull him into a heavy hug.

"And by the way," he whispered into his son's ear, "try to be careful while out on your journey with your friends."

"You knew?!"

"Of course I knew, a journey is practically a rite of passage for youngsters like you. Just take care."

"I promise."

Regen took him by the shoulder, and led him to the edge of the stage. He raised his voice so that the whole crowd could here him.

"Do you, Oban Sarr, swear to uphold our laws, to keep our traditions and faith no matter where you go, and to do your duty as a man and place the welfare of your family before all else?"

"I swear it."

Regen beamed proudly. He turned to the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he boomed into the room, "I give you a man!"

The whole room thundered with cheers. Oban bowed, pleased with himself. After the completion of the line, partygoers began to disperse. Two men in black armour showed up to pick up Xannon. She lingered as long as she could, but eventually she was pulled away. Vent didn't have anyone waiting for him, so he stayed sitting on the edge of the stage with Oban.

Oban was watching the crowd dwindled, looking out for the man in black. He was concentrating hard on each individual face.

"You okay, pup?"

"Yeah."

"You don't look okay."

Oban sighed and sat back.

"There was a man here tonight that wasn't a pirate."

"That's not possible," Vent asserted, "non-pirates aren't allowed to come, no exceptions."

"I don't care, I saw him, and he wasn't a pirate. No one knows anything about him, and its bothering me."

"Well then tell your dad."

"I did… kind of."

"Well if it didn't bother him, them I'm sure it's nothing. Christ, its 2:30. I might as well go prep the ship. Do you mind if I take off?"

"No, and thanks again for the gift."

"Well you'll need it where we're going." Vent jumped off the stage and walked the length of the room, disappearing into the night. Oban watched him go silently. After about half an hour, he picked himself up and decided it was time to go to bed. His family got the use of the hall for the night, including the bedrooms that were just off the main hall. The rest of his family had already retired, and it was time to follow their lead.

He shouldered off the two coats he had been wearing, which had suddenly become heavy, and carried it to the Midnight Suite. Every pirate that took mass at that hall had spent their First night sleeping in it. It was covered in dark blues and purple, and the bed was large enough for easily two people. Well, some chose to celebrate their First Night with… company. He dropped onto the bed, exhausted. The corners of his vision began to blur, and he was pleased to finally slip into the world of sleep.

A gunshot snapped him violently back into consciousness. A cry of pain sank fear into his heart.

"Dad!"


	3. Chapter 3

He raced down the hall towards his father's room, dodging other members of his family as they rushed towards the cry. All he could think of were those yellow eyes and the sinister being they belonged too. He knew that he had something to do with this, and now that the impossible had happened, it all made awful sense.

He rounded the wood paneled corner. The father's room was traditionally the final room in the hall. Oban realized sadly that their strictly regimented traditions had made it far too easy for the assassin to find his target. He reached out for the door knob. The door gave way without his touch.

He looked up into blazing eyes. They were so yellow and full of power, he was sure they were golden, but no soul resided behind the power. The perfect face also held no trace of caring for the heinous act he had just committed. If his chest hadn't been rising and falling with his breath, Oban would have sworn he was a machine. Frozen in fear, he could do nothing but stand stupidly as a black gloved hand reached up towards his throat.

"What's going on?" Lacy's intimidating voice boomed from not to far away. The hand faltered. Its owners head cocked at her for a moment, then pushed past Oban and disappeared down the hall. Lacy gave chase. Oban, blood still iced by fear, walked into the room. The powerful smell of blood was the first thing that caught him. It made his stomach heave. The light was out, but he could see a heavy shape moving in the corner. It was where the smell was coming from. He flicked the light on.

A low, heartbreaking moan slipped from his throat when he saw his father doubled over. He was clutching his stomach, his hands dyed red. A six inch blade, stained to the hilt, was lying on the carpet next to him. He was panting hard, and was trying hard to get up. Oban winced as he watched him flail like a downed animal. Oban rushed over to help him. Taking a hold of his shoulders to steady the big man.

"It's okay," Oban murmured. "It'll be okay, I'll get a doctor." He rose to leave, but one of his father's hands caught his arm and pulled him back.

"No," he growled, "there's no time... I'm already dead."

"Dad, don't say that! I'll get a doctor, they'll save you, I just have to..."

"Oban, shut up! Did he see you? The assassin, did he see you?"

"Y-yes."

"Dammit. Where is he now? No, that doesn't matter. You can't stay here."

"I'll go back to the station..."

"No I mean you can't stay _here_, in Boolie. If you stay, he'll come for you, to clean up his loose ends."

"I can't leave the system! Where do I go? Everyone I've ever known is here."

Regen hesitated, glancing towards a file that was sitting on the bed. I was barely visible in the darkness.

"I swore I would never tell you the truth, Oban. I swore it. But you're my family, and family comes before everything else. You need to know, it might save your life…" His voice trailed off. He couldn't explain, so he just tipped his head towards the file. Oban hesitated, then got up and crossed to the bed. He just stared at the file, not wanting to open it, not wanting to even touch it.

"Oban!" Regen rasped, "this is not the time for fear! Take the papers, on them is the way to a planet called Corneria in the Lylat system, there you'll find…" his words were cut off by his hacking and coughing, red appearing on his lips. "You… have to go… Take… your ship… Vent… will under…"

Oban couldn't breathe. He waited silently, begging his father to finish. His hands started to shake. He couldn't look, couldn't bear to think that he was really gone. He turned and ran from the room, crashing into his oldest brother on the way out.

"What happened? His dad alright?"

Oban couldn't answer, he was too terrified. He just ran past, out of the hall and into the night. The only way he could fulfill his father's wish for him to escape would be if he took the small excursion vessel that he and his friends set aside for their journey together. The ship they were going to take was sitting in the docks, not to far from the Hall.

Every shadow terrified him. Every corner he thought might hold his death. What if the assassin came back? What if he took out Lacy? Would that be his fault as well?

He turned a dark corner and was confronted by the back door of the ship bay. He yanked it open, nearly positive that the man would be waiting for him. To his relief, the only other person in the small bay was Vent, preparing a small, three man ship. It was dark in colour, will a peeling hull. It was nothing special, the ship that Vent had come in on. There would have been barely enough room for the three of them.

"Oban? What are you doing up, I thought we weren't leaving until morn…" The look of terror in his friend's face silenced him. "Oban, what's going on?"

"It's my dad… he's dead."

"What!?"

"The man I saw… he killed my dad."

"Oh, hell."

"He said I had to leave. I have to go to some place called Lylat."

"We'll go with you. Give me a sec' to get Zindi and--"

"There isn't time."

Vent looked sadly at the ship that he had put so much painstaking work into.

"I guess you better go then."

"Vent, I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize, just go. I'll tell Xannon everything." He grabbed Oban and pushed him into the tiny ship. He landed heavily against the far wall, the strike padded slightly by the two coats he was still holding. He had almost left them on the bed in his room, but now he clutched them in fear. Vent stood hesitantly at the threshold, seemingly locked in indecision. Finally, he leaned back out of the way of the door. "Take care of yourself, pup."

Oban nodded, and Vent slid the door closed. He jumped as the seal hissed shut. No other sounds could be heard. Slowly, he slid to the floor, waiting for something to happen. He knew that Vent would be going to tell the dock stewards to launch the ship. Oban forced himself to get up and slowly found his way to the navigational station. With trembling hands he opened to the first page in the file. The picture inside was of a normal, one star solar system. There were things written next to them in small, neat cursive. His father's handwriting. He closed it again, not wanting to look at it.

"Do you have the co-ordinates?" Vent's voice asked him through the comm. system. Oban shook his head, even though he knew Vent couldn't see him.

"N-no."

"…Alright, don't lose your head, I'll just send you to the capital city of… Corneria, Lylat, right?"

"Yes. Vent, please come with me, I can't go alone and leave everyone here."

He heard Vent sigh.

"Oban, I know you're scared, but you're not a kid anymore, so it's time to suck it up and start acting like the man you are."

Oban didn't answer. He wanted to wake up out of his nightmare. He wanted to go back to being a boy, dreaming about his First Night. This was nothing like what he had dreamed of.

"Are you ready to launch?"

Oban connected the four-point harness. "Yes."

"Then good luck. And goodbye."

XxX

A sudden loud screech woke Oban unceremoniously. He tumbled out of the bunk, rushing over to the control consol to check the source of the noise. He prayed that it was trying to tell him that he would soon be landing at his destination. The ship had no warp capabilities, so he had spent nearly a week in the cramped soup can of a vessel with nothing but the sounds of the hull creaking around him and the tasteless rations Vent had packed. If he didn't escape soon, he was sure to go mad.

A few taps brought up the star map he had checked a million times. It showed Lylat's star, Solar, in the middle of the green view, and all the planets in their proper orbits. A crosshairs laid itself over the planet closest to the red dot that marked Oban's position. At his request, it zoomed in, showing off a gleaming city of steel and glass. Next to the picture was a scroll list of attractions, and a brief history, along with a little notice that read: Welcome to Corneria City.

"Corneria City," Oban repeated, reading over the information scroll.

"This is Corneria Space Traffic Control; you have not pre-registered your ship to land at this docking zone."

"Ah, no, sir."

"Please follow the ship that is being sent to retrieve you."

The star map fell so that Oban could see the large interceptor class ship that was heading towards him. It was white and blue, with a planet ringed with holly printed on it's side. L.S.S.D. was painted on its side, next to the emblem. Oban couldn't help but think it was overkill to send such a powerful ship after his little dingy.

"Unidentified vessel, this is the interceptor ship _Chrono_, you will follow me into port."

Oban did as he was told, following the _Chrono_ through Corneria's atmosphere. Once he broke the cloud layer, he was greeted by the city from the ship's projection, brimming with green life in amongst steel and technology. It was a floating city, levitated slightly above the calm waters below it by powerful thrusters. Bridges came off of it from every side like tethers, tying it to islands still sunken and touching the sea. One such connected to the mainland, which could be seen not too far off.

The_ Chrono_ disappeared, and Oban followed the directions sent to him by traffic control, which found him a birth in amongst a slew of other ships his size. He stepped out onto the catwalk, impressed by the sheer size of the complex. There were different bays for each size and class of ship, and they were all managed with expert precision by a central computer aided by a contingent of stewards. Two of which were coming towards him, dressed in their blue uniforms. One was a young fox, about his age if not a little younger. The other was a much older looking, heavy set red frog. He shook hands with Oban very professionally. The fox followed his lead.

"Welcome to Corneria City. My name is Adams, and this Fox McCloud. Please don't be put off by our inspection. Protocols, you see. Are you the owner of this ship?"

"Ah, no, actually. It belongs to my friend, Ventus Starkiller?"

"But you are the captain?"

"Yes."

"Any other passengers?"

"No sir."

"And what is your business here?"

This was the question Oban had been fearing in the back of his mind. He couldn't tell them the truth, but then what did he tell them? Why had his father sent him to this place he had never been before?

"I'm here meeting family."

"I see. Well, that's almost everything, I'd just like to see your residence card, if your home system issues such things."

"Of course." He pulled out a green card that had his name and place of birth on it. He handed it to the fox, who was closer. He inspected it closely, and surprised Oban when he scoffed.

"Is this some kind of a joke?" he snapped. Oban stared at him like he had lost his mind.

"What do you mean?"

"Ethnicity: Space pirate? Who do you think you're kidding?"

Oban felt the fur on his neck raise as the young man sneered at him. Who was this little furball to challenge his heritage? Adams tried to silence the fox, but he wasn't picking up the hint. Oban tried to stay calm.

"I'm not sure what the problem is."

"My problem is this obviously forged residence card. Is there even a place called Boolie?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Can you not hear me?"

"I heard your words perfectly clearly, but I'm afraid I don't speak idiot."

"Why you--!"

"Alright, that'll be enough," Adams barked, snatching the card back from Fox and handing it to Oban. "I'm very sorry sir, he's new."

"I understand." Oban did his best to look professional as he walked away, but he was still blown away by his encounter. He could hear Adams ringing out the young man.

"Fox, you _never_…"

"…didn't seem real!"

"…Ethnic groups… different from here, remember that!"

While it was amusing to listen to, it bothered Oban that he had met with such a reaction regarding his heritage. It was obvious that there would be no solace found in his peers in this strange place.

He wandered around the large, brightly lit, glass roofed lounge areas, wondering what his next move would be. The same thoughts that had tortured him all week came flooding back. The party, the man, his father…

Would the assassin come this far to get him? Was Lacy all right, since she had chased after him? What was he supposed to do now that he was here? He figured that the answer to at least one of those questions was in the plain yellow file that was sitting in his ship, but he couldn't bring himself to open it just yet. Whatever was inside he was never meant to see.

He stood, looking for the exit. He had never been so many people in one place before, even at mass in the Pirate's Hall, and all the noise and commotion was starting to get to him. For all his wanderings though, he wasn't able to find the exit. The glass walls that showed the city outside were starting to infuriate him.

"No! Aria, get back here!" screamed a young female voice. Oban turned and saw a small, furry brown animal that resembled a small fox with a pink bow around its neck. It was racing across the lounge in his direction. He watched as it ran through people's legs and dodged everyone trying to catch it.

_These people, are pathetic._ He stayed still until the creature was nearby, just barely out of arms reach. Then he lashed out, the furry thing running right into his hand. It made a squealing noise like a pig as he pressed it close to his chest so it couldn't escape. A female lupine came running over.

"Thank you for catching Aria! I was scared she was going to get squashed. Come here Aria, come to mommy."

Aria wiggled out of Oban's grasp and into the young woman's arms. She shifted it to one arm and held her hand out for him. Oban wasn't really sure what to do. He didn't know why she was holding out her hand, so he simply mirrored her. After a second of akwardness, she took his and shook it.

"My name is Kia O'Donnell."

"Ah, Oban Sarr."

"Hmn, that's not a name I recognize."

"Well, I'm not really from around here."

"But you seem so familiar, you've really never been here before?"

"Never. I don't even know how to get out of this place yet."

"Kia, where did you and your rodent get off to?"

"It's not a rodent, and you know it! I'm sorry, that's my brother calling me. I have to go, but it was nice meeting you. Oh, and…" she pointed behind Oban. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw that she was pointing at a large red sign that read "Exit."

"I supposed you think you're funny," Oban murmured as she ran off.

It was good to be outside again. The terrain was completely different than Inloya. The town he had grown up with was tiny, and technology was sparse. Here, the huge buildings towered up into the sky, and he was surrounded by the most advanced tech he had ever seen. And there was no snow, anywhere. Every living thing was lush and green, and he was sweltering inside his heavy coat. He was completely out of his element, and he didn't know where to turn, so he just wandered around the streets, hoping to find something that might tell him what was supposed to happen next.

Something that wasn't in the file, so he didn't have to look at that handwriting.


End file.
